REVIEW: WHIPLASH

There is something that, we as an audience, find intriguing about a character’s self-destruction in an effort to perfect a certain talent. Like many films that have come before Whiplash, the flowing story lines or questions throughout these films are often, “what will our main character give up in life in order to pursue a talent that they so greatly excel at?”

When a young music student (Miles Teller) is accepted into one of the most elite studio jazz bands at the conservatory, the hell soon awaits him. J.K Simmons, who is most known for playing the nurturing dad in Juno, plays the band director that spits fire at his students and embarrasses them with each opportunity. It makes us thankful we didn’t have a professor like him in college. And if you did, I hope the money to your psychologist is paying off.

The drumming scenes are epic and beautiful to watch. The practice studio, which is exempt from having any windows, gives a claustrophobic feeling. Almost as if you are detached from the outside word. There is simply nowhere to go as this psychotic man is saying he’s going to “fuck you like a pig.” The whole movie builds up to the very last scene. Blood, sweat, and crashing cymbals, is all I can give away to those of you who haven’t seen the film. If this movie doesn’t cause you to pick your jaw up from the floor, I don’t know what movie will.